Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: RaMell Ross
Starring: Ethan Herisse, Brandon Wilson, Hamish Linklater, Fred Hechinger, Daveed Diggs, Aunjanue
Ellis-Taylor
Colson Whitehead's 2019 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel 'The Nickel
Boys' was inspired by the Arthur G. Dozier School for Boys, a juvenile
detention centre in Florida whose name became infamous when the remains of
former students, mostly African-American boys, were discovered in unmarked
graves on the institution's grounds, the families of the victims having
been told that the boys had run away.
Making his narrative directorial debut after drawing much acclaim for his
2018 documentary Hale County This Morning, This Evening, RaMell Ross adapts Whitehead's book in remarkable fashion,
turning what could have been another piece of misery porn about historical
injustice into a thrilling, touching and damning piece of work.
The montage that opens Nickel Boys initially fools us into
believing we're watching yet another American indie filmmaker mimic the
late style of Terrence Malick, as the camera floats around viewing moments
of its protagonist's childhood from low angles. We come to realise,
however, that we're being presented with the specific POV of a child. In
one of the most striking shots of recent years, we watch a news report on
Martin Luther King Jr. play on several televisions in the window of a main
street store in 1960s Tallahassee. Then we notice something else in the
frame, the reflection of a young black boy. In this composition Ross lays
out his plan: he's not simply going to regurgitate 20th century American
history, he's going to force us to see it through the eyes of one of its
victims.
The black boy whose eyes we share is Elwood (Ethan Herisse), a
studious teenager who benefits from having adults looking out for him: his
doting grandmother Hattie (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) and his teacher
Mr. Hill (Jimmie Fails). The latter inspires Elwood to accept a
place at an African-American college. Hitching his way to the college,
Elwood accepts a lift, only to discover the driver has stolen the car when
the cops pull him over (the scene plays like the re-enactment in the
middle of Stevie Wonder's 'Living for the City'). Rather than going to
college, Elwood finds himself a prisoner of the Nickel Academy for
Boys.
On entry Elwood is told that if he keeps his nose clean and works hard he
can "graduate," but it soon becomes clear that the system is rigged
against the African-American "students," who are forced to perform manual
labour while the white inmates play football. Elwood is befriended by a
slightly older boy, Turner (Brandon Wilson), who is currently doing
a second stint at the Nickel. While Elwood devises plans to expose the
wrongdoings at the Nickel, keeping notes in a journal, Turner advises him
against doing so, knowing it won't end well. Elwood's attempts to change
the course of the Nickel see him whipped with a belt by a sadistic teacher
(Hamish Linklater) and confined to a sweat box, but Turner warns of
even worse fates said to have befallen former students.
The arrival of Turner in the narrative provokes a formal shift as we view
the rest of the film through a combination of the POVs of both Elwood and
Turner. In an ingenious move, Ross has their initial meeting over
breakfast play out from both perspectives as the scene repeats itself,
underlining their instant bond. Through Elwood's eyes we see the
resignation of Turner, while through Turner's we see the nervousness and
naivete of Elwood, but through both boys' eyes we see a glimmer of
hope.
Movies shot with a first person perspective have generally been
interesting formal experiments at best (Robert Montgomery's
The Lady in the Lake) and vomit-inducing at worst (Ilya Naishuller's
Hardcore Henry), but in Nickel Boys the style is inseparable from the
substance. Seeing Elwood and Turner's POVs removes the distance that dogs
dramas set in the past: for its running time we aren't merely observing
1960s America, we are living it as the immediate present. The
preponderance of found footage movies over the past couple of decades
means such a presentation is no longer jarring, but any desensitisation is
erased as soon as we see the eyes of a white man stare into the camera and
we immediately experience a shiver of dread. Many moments here remind us
of the cellphone footage we've now become accustomed to seeing of
African-Americans filming their interactions with threatening cops and
racists.
Like Steven Soderbergh's similarly presented ghost story
Presence, Nickel Boys makes the case for camera operators
qualifying for acting awards. As great as Herisse and Wilson are in
portraying Elwood and Turner on screen, the camera plays an integral role
in fleshing out their characters. The way Ross moves his camera in
conjunction with cinematographer Jomo Fray and camera operator
Sam Ellison tells us a lot about the unspoken psychology of the
boys, recreating the cautious movements of a young black man negotiating
the perils of 1960s America, every corner approached with the trepidation
of a fantasy gamer expecting to be seized upon by an orc.
The movie's most outstanding performance is a brief one however. Along
with the main '60s narrative we get some flashforwards to Elwood's future
life in the '70s, '80s and 2010s (played in these scenes by
Daveed Diggs). The first person POV is replaced with a camera
attached to Diggs' back, meaning we only see the back of his dreadlocked
head in these moments. In one of these scenes, set in 1988, Elwood has an
uncomfortable reunion with another Nickel survivor who went by the name of
Chickie Pete when the latter unexpectedly pops up in a New York bar.
Played by Craig Tate, the adult Chickie puts on a bold front,
boasting about his grand plans having recently kicked alcoholism. In just
a few minutes Tate delivers what might be the most haunting depiction of
PTSD ever captured on screen. As Elwood and Pete swerve around talk of
their shared past, the scene is a damning indictment of men's inability to
speak with one another about the things that matter. The scene ends in
crushing fashion as Ross cuts from the adult Chickie to his vibrant young
self before he was broken by the Nickel and all it stood for. The film's
ultimate conclusion is similarly wrenching, a mixture of the hope and
heartbreak that seems to define the African-American experience.
Nickel Boys is in UK/ROI cinemas from January 3rd.
